


Denial Is Just A River In Egypt

by DilophoLehnsherr



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Five Stages of Grief, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Happy Hogan is a Good Bro, Hurt/Comfort, Iron Man - Freeform, Irondad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Spider-Man - Freeform, can we get an f in the chat, everyone just pulls together for this sad teenager going through a rough time basically, is it too soon for that joke im so sorry, this is so sad alexa play another one bites the dust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 06:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18654907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DilophoLehnsherr/pseuds/DilophoLehnsherr
Summary: Tony was supposed to be the one who stayed.That's it, just the one who stayed. And then he didn't. Just like everybody else who got too close to him, who he dared to see through the light of a father figure.So what was Peter supposed to do now, faced with that number in his contacts list that he could never quite bring himself to delete? That horrid, crushing sensation in his gut that he was too scared to let out?Maybe it was stupid, but a part of him was hoping for one more response.





	Denial Is Just A River In Egypt

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey hey guess who saw Endgame at an opening night fan event and left looking like their face was dunked in a pool?? It's ME I DID!! 
> 
> Yeah, I'm in fucking mourning, I went through the five stages of grief in the span of 20 minutes, and I love to make myself suffer more, but vicariously and through fictional teenagers. 
> 
> Tony Stark was my hero, ever since I was a little kid, so his loss hit me especially hard and right where it hurt the most. But I guess that's the point of art, to make you identify with it and channel those base emotions through it. Plus, I wanted to speculate on what Peter must have gone through in the aftermath, especially after his Uncle and parents.
> 
> So, yeah. There's always gonna be more heroes in the Marvel universe, but Anthony Edward Stark was MY hero. And while there's always more comics to read, RDJ's depiction of him is what introduced me to that man who seemed to reflect my personal struggles almost poetically through metaphor or direct connection, and so he'll always hold a special place for me.
> 
> But yeah, enjoy this! Every chapter where Peter "talks" to him is gonna be a reflection of a different stage of grief, which is also very good writing practice for me, so this serves many purposes.
> 
> Please leave a review if you like it!!

Hey… PP

No, no. Stupid. Stupid. Peter gave himself a good slap to the cheek. What was he doing? Who was going to read this? It was probably going to some long-destroyed cell phone in a landfill. Peter stared at that message for a couple of seconds, his foot tapping against the ground in an increasingly quick rhythm the longer it just went… unacknowledged. What was he expecting? Some kind of response? 

He waited. Nothing. 

He waited for a little longer. Still, nothing. 

Peter blew out a heavy sigh through clenched teeth, staring at the unlocked phone on his desk, glanced up at the name on the top of the screen: ‘Tony Stank.’ That used to make him laugh, once upon a time. Him and Mr. Rhodey would torment the poor guy with that unfortunate misreading of such a prolific name. Now, there was no joy behind it; it felt hollow, empty. Like the soul had been sucked out of it, and maybe it had. 

Probably died with him. 

Peter aggressively shook his head to jangle his scrambled thoughts back into place. No, no, he wasn’t dead, right? He couldn’t be, not after all this time. After his parents, and Uncle Ben, and everything they’d been through together, Tony’s supposed to be the one who stays. Yeah, that’s right. Tony’s the one who stays. 

Chewing on his bottom lip, Peter picked up his phone again. What was he supposed to talk about? Well… what did he usually talk to Mr. Stark about?

School’s been going okay. Flash has been acting less dickish to me lately, so that’s a plus. I think it’s because I’ve been standing up to him like you taught me to. That, or he just feels bad for me. I like to think it’s the former. PP

School board’s making all of us who weren’t, uh… here, to go to these weird student support groups and group therapy sessions. Not the biggest fan, personally. May makes me go, though. I mean, what’s the point of talking about something you can’t even remember? And in my case, what am I supposed to say about what happened when I got back? Oh, “yeah, I’m Spider-Man.” Like, no! This is a terrible idea! PP

Well, not completely terrible. There’s a few kids who lost friends and family after the snap, like either from suicide or the ensuing chaos of the panic immediately after, so it’s helping a lot of them find community support and come to terms with it. I mean, they say that everything that gets spoken of in there won’t leave that room, but I don’t trust like that. PP

Seriously, Parker? A meme? Peter’s hands were starting to shake the more he typed, and it was getting harder to avoid typos. His lower jaw kept clanking his molars together like it was a cold winter’s day, and he tensed up in a barely-successful attempt to put a cap in it. But now his vision was all blurry, skewed by something wet and stingy that he definitely hadn’t asked for. Peter blinked it away, swiping the back of one hand over his face to destroy the evidence.

“Peter!” May called from the kitchen, and the shock made him flinch, clumsily dropping his phone back onto his desk. So much for spider-reflexes. Judging from the time, and the smell drifting in from the other side of his closed door, it was probably dinner. 

Maybe that was a sign. Maybe it was time to stop, at least for now. 

Peter took a deep breath to steady himself again, taking all of those flaring reactions he was having and shoving them back down into the pit of his stomach. Maybe he could smother them, if he tried hard enough. Still, it was rude to leave someone hanging like that. “Just a second!” Oh, yikes. That came out more hoarse than he was expecting. 

There was a tense pause after that, a heavy silence between aunt and nephew, both the only family they had left in this cruel, uncaring world that had done nothing but take from the both of them. There was a soft knock at the door, but no one barged in. May was surprisingly good about that lately. “You okay, Peter…?” asked that familiar voice, concern dripping from her words. 

Peter swallowed down the lump in his throat and winced his way through forcing the lingering remnants of emotion back into their locked box, and responded in a more even tone: “yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just… finishing up some homework. I’ll be right there.” Peter faked a smile, but no one else was in his room, so who was it for, exactly? 

May’s footsteps got quieter, and Peter released his held breath, scooping up his phone again and furrowing his brow when he noticed a new crack in the screen. It must have been from the drop, a line in the glass that cut right through the image of Mr. Stark’s contact photo. He was smiling at Peter taking the picture from behind the mug he was drinking out of, eyes peeking over his coloured sunglasses. Now it was all distorted, didn’t look quite right. 

I gotta go, Mr. Stark. PP

No, no. Bad phrasing. 

But what was wrong with it, really? He signed off from conversations with Ned and MJ like that all the time.

It just left a bad taste in his mouth. Try again.

Goodby-

Peter backspaced. No, that’s worse. Made all those things he pushed down again try and bubble back to the surface. 

See you so-

No! Because, well… just, no!

Talk to you later. PP

There, that’s better. Still a bit flat, though.

I have one of those weird sessions again tomorrow, so maybe a bit later than usual. Sorry I haven’t been great at the daily updates you asked for, I’ve just had a lot on my mind. PP

With that, Peter locked his phone, tossed it on top of his bed, and headed out of his room to join May for dinner. She looked up at him from the table, where she was waiting for him, and squinted up at his face in worry. “Why are your eyes all red, kiddo?”

Peter blinked in surprise. “What?”


End file.
